


A New Form of Punishment

by DariganBori



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Age Difference, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Begging, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Morty Smith, Bottom Rick, Citadel of Ricks, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Creampie, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Foot Fetish, Fucking, Gags, Hand Jobs, Harems, Horny Teenagers, Implied/Referenced Incest, Incest, Incest Kink, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Orgy, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Sex, Smut, Top Morty Smith, Top Rick, Train Sex, Triple Penetration, toe sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25064155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DariganBori/pseuds/DariganBori
Summary: Rick is arrested on the Citadel of Ricks and hauled off for a punishment that ends up being quite unique and more than he (or anyone else) ever bargained for.Very explicit! Mind the tags!
Relationships: Morty Smith & Morty Smith, Morty Smith/Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 31
Kudos: 72





	A New Form of Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea one night, and spent the entire next day banging this story out as fast as I could, just to get the concept down, then spent days and days editing it. Of all the Rick/Morty stories I've read so far (a LOT), I haven't read anything at all like this, so I thought I'd do it myself.
> 
> I'm still new to writing Rick and Morty fics (I have one other completed so far), but this is my first Rick/Morty story that I'm posting (I have others in the works). Even so, I've been really into the pairing for a long time now. I hope my contribution to this pairing is okay, even though, with this being my first Rick/Morty story, I basically dove into the deep end of it head first. Hahaha!
> 
> I really enjoy reading and writing erotica, and I hope you enjoy it too, and that I haven't pushed it way too far with this fic. Please enjoy!

Rick Sanchez was no stranger to being pressed under the boot of authority. Throughout his long life filled with dangers, risk-taking, and fighting against what he considered federal tyranny, he would always eventually manage to get thrown down into the mud and have the heavy boot of the law smash his face into the murky paste.

So it was no surprise to him that he was being hauled down a long, unmarked, and decidedly dark and creepy corridor by two Citadel Guard Ricks.

He had found trouble once again. Or had the trouble found him? Sometimes the lines between the two were very blurry.

His chest, upper arms, and shoulders strained painfully while the guards dragged him along, their arms looped under his armpits to keep him aloft while his bound legs trailed uselessly behind him. A third guard walked a pace behind them, laser rifle poised at the ready, should Rick make any false moves.

Ricks knew themselves better than anyone, so to leave one of themselves with any easy mobility was considered 'a Morty-move'. Keeping his arms bound behind his back by the forearms, and his legs bound by the calves down to the ankles, reduced his chances for escape dramatically.

It was always a possibility that Ricks had secret tricks hidden up their sleeves, though—they had survived seventy years traveling the multiverse and been chased by every enemy and federal government under the cosmos, after all. But after trying and failing on multiple occasions to capture and punish criminal Ricks on the Citadel, they had wizened up to their own antics, and the Citadel authorities had developed technology to scan a Rick's body for any hidden secrets.

A scan to Rick's own body had shown a few augmentations to better process alcohol and organ and skeletal reinforcements, but nothing so high-tech as a cybernetic gun arm or rocket feet, so by binding him in such a way, it basically meant he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. He could try to inch-worm away...but he would prefer a more dignified way to be executed while trying to escape.

Rick swallowed the pooling spit in his mouth and clenched his teeth into the gag fitted just behind them. The thing was rather simple for the sci-fi preferences of most Ricks, especially the bombastic, pompous authority of the Citadel of Ricks. It was merely made of a rolled up ball of cloth shoved into his mouth and locked behind his teeth, with another strap of cloth cinched over it between his lips and wrapped around to be tied behind his head, keeping everything in place. It kept his jaw locked open just enough to be a strain and make his whole face feel uncomfortable, a low ache trailing up behind his ears and down either side of his neck.

When he had been arrested, they had confiscated his portal gun and everything his lab coat pockets carried. They even dug through the pockets on his brown slacks, turning them out and finding more hidden goodies he liked to keep on-hand. Rick attempted to smirk around the gag in his mouth, remembering with amusement how he'd teased the guards about strip searches and finding things buried in cavities. He didn't **have** anything hidden inside his body, just like he didn't have any offensive weaponry augmentations, but it was fun to make those guards' noses curl in distaste and bark for him to shut up.

And so, unfortunately, all Rick was left with were the clothes on his back, the bindings keeping him immobile and silent, and his thoughts. And none of those were good enough to get him out of his current predicament. What good was his genius if he had nothing to work with?

The guards dragged him to a stop in front of a large set of bulkhead doors, and the one on his right quickly keyed a five-digit code into a number pad situated on the wall nearby. The doors hissed loudly, then slid open with a rumbling hum, parting in the middle and drawing apart to either side. The room revealed was large and seemingly empty, but it was far too dark to tell for sure. In the center of the space was one single spotlight, bright, shining directly down onto the smooth metal flooring.

With a heavy clunk that echoed deeply through the room and down the hallway, like prison doors in a maximum security Federation prison, the doors rested seamlessly with the entryway, and the procession then entered the very dark room, hauling Rick toward the spotlight.

Was there to be another interrogation? Rick rolled his eyes with the thought. He'd been interrogated for two days already. Were they trying a different approach now? They'd given him the good cop/bad cop routine; the silent treatment to let him simmer and stew; threats to himself, friends, family; a couple rounds of beatings where he ended up with broken bones and was close to death, then healed with serums just to have to endure it all over again.

But Rick's resolve was unshakable. Once his mind was set on something, he never backed down, and he never gave in. It was one of his trademarks, one of the few things he could pride himself on, in being different from other Ricks. And he had sworn he would never divulge the information he'd kept secret from the stupid Rick-pigs and Citadel officials. They'd never get him to talk, so they'd might as well give up already, for fuck's sake.

The guards hauled Rick into the circle of light, and he squinted at the intensity of it, his pupils still adjusted to the dim hallway he'd been dragged down. It completely drowned out everything beyond the halo of illumination, not that anything else could be seen in the darkness anyway. It felt like he was in some weird twilight-zone moment or some kind of film noir. He blinked and looked down at himself, trying to get his eyes to adjust and check if he was suddenly in black and white.

A jerking tug made him sway unsteadily, and the guards drew their arms away and let him tumble down onto the hard metal floor, his stomach flipping and entire nervous system lighting on fire with the startling feeling of falling with no way to catch himself. He tried to turn in some way to lessen the impact, but no matter which way he fell, something was going to get hurt. It ended up being his right shoulder and upper arm taking the brunt of the fall, and Rick grunted loud on impact, his head following the motion of his falling body and lightly banging off the floor as well. Eyes like grey ice rolled up under pinching lids, and he relaxed down against the cold surface, grumbling muffled obscenities behind the gag that no one could decipher.

The Rick guards stood around him in the circle of light, and he glared up at them, wincing through the throbbing of his shoulder and forehead. His hip kind of hurt too. The pitying looks the three guards bestowed on him disarmed his anger, and he blinked up at them. The nerves he felt were no longer about the fall, but for something else, something unknown. It was not often at all that a Rick would feel bad for another Rick, and that **three** of them were giving him that 'poor thing' expression set off alarm bells in his head and made his hands and feet tingle and sweat.

Shit. Something wasn't right. ...Well, beyond the fact that he was tied up under a spotlight in a dark, warehouse-sized room anyway.

The three guards exchanged quick glances, gave Rick one more pitying look, then rounded him and fell back to the exit.

" _Ey!..._ ** _Ey_** _!_ " Rick tried to shout through the gag, rolling over onto his stomach so he could turn his head and follow the guards' retreating forms.

They never looked back.

The heavy bulkhead door hissed again and slid shut, the clunk of the doors meeting echoing through the empty room and hammering into Rick's sore skull. In the silence that ensued, Rick could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, and he swallowed another mouthful of saliva.

He was too sober for this shit.

Icy grey eyes darted this way and that as he rolled back onto his sore right shoulder, but still, nothing was visible beyond the bright beam of light he rested under. Breaths coming faster, he panted around the gag as best he could, struggling for oxygen and sweating, unsure of what was happening, his entire sensory system on high alert.

The room felt unusually warm and humid for being so big and open, and he was sure it wasn't because of the heat from the light illuminating him. The odd hum of a presence settled over his skin from beyond the spotlight, emanating from the darkness, and Rick wasn't sure if it was because there was something in there with him, or if he was actually starting to panic and imagining things that weren't there. He told himself to calm down, that getting worked up would do him no good, but after two days of harsh interrogations and brutal treatment—two full days of not having a drop of alcohol to drink to help calm his nerves and reign in his mind—Rick was too on edge to be thinking one hundred percent rationally.

Another heavy swallow gulped down his throat, trying to jam his nervousness down with it.

" _Earth Rick of dimension C-216,_ " a voice boomed over a loudspeaker system overhead, echoing through the room and pounding inside his ears like they were bass drums.

It was a Morty's voice, but cold, monotoned. It could have been a computer simulation, but Rick could tell the difference.

" _You are charged with treason against the duly elected government of the Citadel._ "

With something to finally focus on, Rick's hackles lowered, and he grumbled through the gag, annoyed.

There was the heart of the matter of why he was in trouble in the first place. If anything, he was guilty of recording secret meetings between officials and the president and delivering the data to the group that **was** actually trying to topple the government. Not that they could get that information out of him in the least during the last two days. But he supposed that they had given up on trying to pin anything specific on him.

" _Your punishment is death._ "

Rick huffed through his nose and rolled his eyes. What an overreaction, but honestly, he wasn't all that surprised. Typical Citadel 'justice'. If they couldn't get what they wanted out of him, then they would just choose to eliminate him as a factor altogether.

That had not been his first death sentence. Not by a long shot. Even though he knew each one could be his last.

" _I've been experimenting with different forms of execution._ "

It was the president. Rick knew it. That cold Morty voice, without a stutter. He'd heard the boy make enough speeches and listened to enough recordings of his private conversations to know who he was by now. Shit, he might actually be screwed, especially since so many other Ricks have been cropping up missing lately. It had been part of the reason he'd been contracted to bug every damn room in the central tower of the Citadel—where all the officials that ran the place lived and worked. The group that hired him for his expertise needed solid intel on the goings on of the newly elected Citadel government, wanting proof for their suspicions—that the president was the mastermind behind so many Rick disappearances. He had been close...really close, he just knew it. But not close enough to get rock-solid evidence. Though, now, it seemed his own death sentence might be the evidence he finally needed to prove the kid wanted Ricks dead. Too bad he might never get the chance to let anyone else know that.

" _For yours, I wanted to relive a little nostalgia. That scar along your temple..._ "

He was talking about the two inch faded scar on Rick's right temple, the one he got in his first bar fight years and years ago. That had been such a fun fight, he'd never healed that wound over, leaving it as a memento. He smiled wistfully at the memory around the gag. Good times. At least he had that to think back on before he was put down.

" _...it reminds me of a Rick I had once. I was actually quite fond of him. So I wanted your death to be a replica of his,_ " the president said, the tone in his voice dipping just the tiniest bit into wistfulness.

Shit, how the fuck did that Rick die? Obviously if it had killed him, that just might be his last death sentence after all.

The lights flashed on with a booming clunk sound, blinding Rick once more. He squeezed his eyes and groaned, twisting his face down and propping his forehead to the cold floor, blinking to try ridding his vision of the sparkling spots. It took a moment for his eyes to clear, and when they did, they flicked to the side, suddenly noticing something in his peripheral.

Pupils shrunken to pinpricks showing off just how icy grey his irises were, with flecks of blue that made them twinkle in the lights like pale, cloudy gemstones, Rick's eyes widened with surprise.

He had been right in his intuition that there had been another presence in the room with him. The shock of that registered then dulled immediately. However, what truly made a shiver tickle down his spine was that the other presence in the room was Morty. Or rather, **Mortys**. Dozens and dozens of Mortys. They filled the room, and Rick turned his head as best he could to look behind himself, and sure enough, there were more back there too. He was surrounded on all sides by a huge gang of Mortys. Maybe fifty...maybe one hundred...he couldn't tell. One yellow shirt bled into the next, a thousand round eyes all focused on him, a rolling sea of brown-haired heads looping around the room, making his vision feel blurred and untrustworthy.

Rick swallowed.

One Morty was easily handleable...a couple were hardly an issue, but required a little more effort...an entire warehouse full of them?

Shit.

The president's voice echoed overhead, cold, emotionless. " _Kill him._ "

The Mortys obeyed the simple command, all advancing as one unit, circling closer and closing the iris of free space that surrounded Rick, bound and helpless on the floor. He knew Mortys could be nasty little shits when they were determined, and all of those boys wore scowls and narrowed eyes directed at him, lifting their hands and reaching toward him, fingers bent like little claws, ready to tear him limb from limb. They all probably had a lot of aggression to work out against their own Ricks, and what better way to give them some satisfaction than to let them beat a criminal Rick to death.

Rick figured it would be cathartic for them, but he didn't want to be the one giving them their catharsis.

The Mortys encroached on Rick's personal space, and he squeezed his eyes, tightening up into a ball on the floor, trying to protect his most vital parts, but knowing it was probably futile. Shit, he'd always **figured** his death would be some sort of pathetic way to go. Beaten to death by Mortys. Pretty pathetic for a Rick. At least he wouldn't be losing a bet.

He was way too sober right then...and **way** too sober for such a death. He reminded himself once again that he had been denied any alcohol for over two days during his interrogation. If he was supposed to be executed, they hadn't even offered him a last request sip of spirits. And honestly, he was starting to get the shakes. Or was that fear? He swallowed. Definitely...definitely the shakes...yes... Or maybe some fear too...couldn't rule that out.

Dozens of hands were suddenly upon him, and he squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth into the gag, tightening into his ball as hard as possible. Rick would make it as difficult as he could for them to maim him to death, little as he could actually do. Those hands grabbed at his lab coat, his shirt, tugged the legs of his pants. He felt his body being rolled over against his will, then pulled up into a sitting position.

"Rick?"

"You okay, Rick?"

"Rick, are you hurt?"

"He's bleeding!"

A chorus of 'oh geez's echoed in the huge room and more hands touched at Rick's hair and face, tenderly pawing at the bruise on his left cheek and the small cut at the tail end of his brow he'd gotten from the guard Ricks a short time ago. When he'd struggled too hard while they were binding him up, one of the guards cracked him in the face with the butt of his rifle...a couple times. Just to 'ensure his cooperation'. He'd honestly forgotten about it.

"D-Don't worry, Rick!"

"It—It's okay, Rick."

A tearing sound emanated from his left, and a Morty touched a scrap of his yellow shirt against the cut, tenderly dabbing it clean.

"I got you, Rick," he said with a reassuring smile.

"Don't even trip, dawg."

"It's all good, Rick."

Rick's eyes darted all around, wide and uncertain.

What the fuck was going on?

" _What are you idiots doing?_ " the president's voice suddenly growled overhead, echoing in the room loudly. " _I said kill him!_ "

All the Mortys continued to stare at Rick, those within reach stroking his hair and caressing along his shoulders, arms, and legs. As one, they each lifted one arm and flipped the bird up toward the ceiling.

" _Stupid little traitorous bastards!_ " the president snarled, the sound of fists slamming on a solid wood object following his curse. " _He's a_ ** _Rick_** _! You idiots most of all know that Ricks don't care about Mortys! You think your little acts of kindness are appreciated by a piece of shit like him?! If he were free, you'd all be dead right now!_ "

"Maybe some Ricks don't care about Mortys," one Morty said, kneeling next to Rick and smiling warmly at him.

"But my Rick cared about me," another intoned, petting little fingers over Rick's bald spot.

Rick turned his wide eyes to the kid, swallowing nervously. He had no idea what was going on. He hated not knowing what was going on. It made him sweaty, nervous, and shaky inside. His breathing was uneven, panting through his nose, not able to get enough oxygen through his mouth when he tried to huff through the gag.

"And mine cared about me," another said.

"Me too."

"A-And me."

"Most Mortys care about their Ricks..."

"...even if their Ricks can get mean sometimes."

A Morty slid in close, cupping Rick's face in small warm hands. "Rick..."

Rick's wide eyes took him in, pupils fighting to dilate and narrow, caught between taking in less of the bright lights and the carnal panic of fear. The icy orbs darted around the boy's face, trying to read anything deeper into the soft warm smile they were looking at. The scientist panted even harder in nervousness.

They were fucking with him, right? It was all some weird ploy to get him to let his guard down so the little shits could tear into him easier, right? He was defenseless enough as it was, but a Rick was still hard to kill when he was coiled and ready to spring.

The Morty leaned in and placed a little kiss to the scar on Rick's right temple. "It's okay, Rick," he said warmly, that smile remaining.

"H-Hey! M-Me too!"

Another Morty kissed near the cut on his left eye, the brush light and soft.

"My turn!"

Another kissed his forehead.

Dozens of hands stroked his shoulders and arms, across his chest, along his thighs, knees, and bound calves.

"Rick..."

"Geez, Rick..."

"Don't worry, Rick..."

The same voice spoke to him but from different directions, and Rick was starting to feel disoriented. The touches were gentle, the kisses kept coming—to his face, his neck, even his fucking bald spot.

Shit, these were his grandson!

Rick shook his head and grumbled, glaring at the Mortys in his vision. They were starting to get a little too handsy for his taste.

"Easy, bro," one said to his left.

"We got you," another spoke to his right.

Hands stroked along his jawline and drew back and up behind his ears, teasing through his hair.

A breathy, " _Rick..._ " tickled one ear, then a throaty, " _Rick..._ " rumbled into his other.

It was like an auditory drug, lulling him, and the small warm hands soothed his tense muscles. They massaged at his sore shoulders, rubbed circles over both knees and into his temples. Soft, gentle touches stroked along the bruise on his cheek, down his throat, dallied around the neck of his teal shirt. Little fingers combed through his wild, starfish-shaped hair, taming it a little. The soft tugs and movements of the fingers through the blue-grey strands felt like fairies were dancing along his scalp. Even though he never gave much weight to such fantasy-style bullshit. But fuck, that was what it felt like.

Rick relaxed against his better judgement. He never knew Mortys could be so...so sweet...so comforting...so gentle...

" _Rick..._ " a mere exhaled breath whispered to his sensitive left ear.

" _Oh, Rick..._ " another soft, low voice mumbled to his right, accompanied by the lightest brush of soft lips against the shell of his ear.

He swallowed, closing his eyes to the sensations all over his body, tingling shivers zipping down his neck and straight into his groin.

Rick never knew Mortys could be so...arousing...

His eyes popped back open.

Shit!

Grandson! Grandson!

Rick growled once again and twisted away from the hands as best he could, but as soon as one left his body, another would take its place. Lips caressed over his cheek, and he turned away only to have more lips peck over his opposite cheek.

" _Morrrphheee_ ," he grumbled in warning around the gag, glaring at as many of the identical boys as he could.

A chorus of 'shhh's hissed through the room, and Rick's eyes popped wide again. It was like they were all on the same fucking wavelength or something.

"It's okay, Rick."

"W-We know what you like, Rick."

"We'll make it g-good, bro."

Rick's eyes bugged. " _Maa eh goo?_ " he mumbled, voice going rather high in concerned question.

Kisses trailed down his throat, more across his forehead. Lips nibbled both earlobes and tongues traced the outer shells delicately. Fingers were still in his hair, caressing the strands gently, not pulling. Hands brushed along his chest, untucking his teal shirt and slipping up under the fabric to caress at warm ashen skin. Hands slid down each long leg, tracing them, following the seams of the brown slacks he wore.

" _Oofffuukk_..." Rick groaned, digging his teeth into the gag and eyes rolling up.

He gave a solid effort to try to convince himself that he shouldn't be enjoying it. That those boys were all versions of his own grandson, who was hopefully still back home and not amongst that group. He tried to tell himself it wasn't right, it was gross, it was degenerate, sick, disgusting. But the hands wouldn't stop. The lips kept kissing. The little tongues continued to taste his exposed skin.

"H-He's getting hard," a Morty mumbled somewhere close, and that set off a roomful of whiny groans that should have been annoying but were only fuel for the fire.

"Let me see."

"I wanna touch it..."

"Me too."

"Don't hog it!"

Hands were suddenly all over his groin now, toying with the fabric of his brown slacks, running under the flap covering the zipper, tracing up and down along his rapidly stiffening length.

"So big..."

"H-Holy shit!"

"Like a-a rock or something..."

Rick groaned lowly, huffing for a steady breath. A feeling of disorientation swayed through his head again—so many hands, so many voices, all the same, all over him, around him. It felt good, but he was nervous about it. He was still worried it was all an elaborate hoax. Maybe he was in some fucked up form of interrogation, weakening him with arousal instead of pain so he'd finally talk freely. Or maybe it was some weird form or punishment some perverted Ricks thought up to torture him with later. The Rick fucked by a roomful of Mortys—desperate, helpless. He'd be a laughing stock for sure.

But those relentless Mortys surrounding him wouldn't stop touching, wouldn't stop cooing at every little twitch and huff he made, wouldn't stop putting sweet little kisses all over his face, neck, wherever they could.

Rick's cock pulsed in his pants, and the boys with hands on his crotch groaned and stroked along it with a firmer press.

They untied the bindings around his calves and ankles and freed his legs to part, a group on each side drawing the long limbs open and moaning as they stroked the appendages, lightly massaging any soreness that might have been there. Rick huffed and gave one firm, valiant effort to kick his legs and knock the boys away from his person, but they held on like a pack of koalas, all moving out and back in with the jerky motions. Weakened from two days of interrogations, beatings, healing, more beatings, and worst of all, no **alcohol** , Rick whined and went slack in their grip, letting them do whatever they had planned. It all felt rather nice anyway.

Delicate fingers tugged at the heels of his shoes and slid them off his feet. Little hands wormed up under his pant legs and pulled his socks down, exposing his bony ankles, heels, then toes as the fabric unfurled from his skin. Fingers traced the tops of his feet, over the veins and sinews protruding from old age, along each toe and nail, even dipping between and brushing away the fuzzes that collected there from his socks.

Rick looked down, wide-eyed as his feet and toes were doted over delicately. He never realized Mortys could be so meticulous at something.

One Morty leaned in and ran a little tongue over the pad of his big toe, and Rick groaned, his whole body twitching. Encouraged by that reaction, other Mortys joined in, licking and sucking at his toes and kissing along the tops of his feet with sweet little pecks.

"Rick..." a breathy voice mumbled near his ear.

"You're so sexy, Rick..." another moaned behind him.

"W-Wanna make you feel so good, R-Rick," another to his left.

Rick's eyes rolled up and he groaned long and low, a deep, guttural sound that had all the Mortys cooing and redoubling their efforts to touch, kiss, lick, suck on his exposed skin.

Fuck it.

If he managed to get out of that, he was gonna encourage his Morty to follow in those boys' footsteps. Rick Sanchez was not known for being too awfully moral anyway. He was a scientist. He tried things. And if he liked them? Well, then, that meant he'd just continue doing it. He wasn't a picky person.

Hands tugged at his white lab coat, drawing it wide around his shoulders and pushing it down along his bound arms, the cloth bunching around his elbows.

"Oof he's so s-sexy like that."

"Jeezus that's hot..."

Rick probably **was** a picture at that point. Gagged with his arms bound behind his back, lab coat bunched at his elbows and pooling around behind him as he sat on the floor. His legs were spread open and held up with a group of Mortys occupying each, several kissing, sucking, lapping at his toes, several others massaging his heels and ankles and clothed calves and thighs. More Mortys around his torso and head, supporting him from tipping over, stroking his face and hair, kissing what wasn't being covered by hands. Even more Mortys were petting along his lap, encouraging him to stay hard, even though he needed no encouragement for that at all anymore.

"I wanna see m-more..." one said, and he rucked up Rick's teal shirt, smoothing his hands over the lean belly exposed.

"Fuck yeah," another mumbled, reaching in to pull the shirt up higher and bunch it up under Rick's armpits.

"Wh-what about this too?" one more said, fumbling with the clasp of his belt.

"Aw yeah, man, totally!"

"T-Take it off!"

'Ooh's and 'ahh's chorused through the room as Rick was carefully stripped, his belt clinking and falling open, fingers plucking the button and sliding the zipper down slowly. The brown fabric was pried apart and 'mmm's and 'oh, yeah's echoed all around Rick's body. More fingers found the sparse bluish-grey hairs of his thin happy trail and traced it down from his bellybutton to the waistband of his underwear.

Kisses started peppering his chest from multiple mouths, and little kitten licks tickled over both nipples, teasing them to bud. Hands stroked along his flanks and counted each rib, circled his navel, slid under the shirt bunched around his upper chest and traced his collarbone.

His name was moaned, over and over, echoing around the smooth walls of the room and into his head like a weird, trippy mantra, and his vision spun while he was tipped back into the support of several boys behind him, propping him into a reclining position. He tried to tell himself it was just the withdrawal and exhaustion that was making him so woozy, but that suggestion only carried so much weight.

_Rick...Rick...Rick...Rick_

His underwear was slowly tugged downward, and he shivered when warm air met the wet head of his cock.

"Oh, Rick..."

"Yes..."

"Fuck..."

"H-Holy shit..."

_Rick...Rick...Rick..._

The Mortys around his legs assisted the ones pulling his trousers open, tugging the brown fabric down his legs and stripping him of their cover. A moment later, his underwear followed.

For as many times as he'd been naked and under the scrutinizing or appreciative eyes of others, he had never felt more exposed than in that moment.

A gaggle of Mortys 'ooo'd and 'awe'd at him, dozens of sets of eyes all staring at his nudity. Little hands caressed down his bare thighs and calves, their little fingers teasing through the fine hairs on them, not quite tickling but enough to make Rick twitch and jerk.

The Mortys gasped and moaned in unison, watching Rick's sizable cock bob and weep from the stimulation.

Fucking hell, it was like they were worshipping his body or something.

"H-He's huge!"

"...never thought a cock would make mine so hard..."

"Fuck, Rick, you're so w-wet..."

"I wanna..." one Morty said, his voice soft and dreamy. Stars in his eyes, he leaned down to tease his button nose along the underside of the straining erection, biting his lip and looking up at Rick's wide-eyed stare. Eye contact made, he eased his tongue out and took one long lap up the shaft, ending at the tip where he caught a fresh pearl of pre-cum beading there and dragged a thin line of it up into his mouth until it snapped.

The mewling, airy moan that Rick emitted surprised even him. He shivered and his cock bobbed deeply, and those Mortys groaned and shifted in closer.

"Me next..." Another Morty leaned down and took a few soft nibbles along the shaft, feeling the heat of the rigid flesh nearly burn his lips.

"My turn!" another grumbled, pushing him away and circling his tongue around the fat ridge of Rick's glistening cock head. "Mmmm..." he moaned throatily, getting a full-on taste of the scientist's salty pre-cum.

"Hey, no cutting!" several Mortys protested at once.

"Save some for us!" one growled, dragging the impatient boy away.

Was Rick in heaven? He had to be in heaven, right? A whole room of cute little horny teenagers fighting over his cock? So had to be heaven.

And then multiple mouths engulfed his length, nibbling, sucking, lapping, humming. His icy grey eyes rolled up to be hidden behind fluttering lids, and he tensed and groaned loudly around the gag in his mouth.

"Tastes so good..."

"Rick's so yummy."

"So hot..."

"S-Sexy, Rick..."

Rick squirmed in their hold, moaning, arching his back and huffing shuddering breaths through his nose. Every bare section of skin was being touched, being kissed, at the very least being held by warm little hands. Fingers combed through his wiry hair, pet along his face, stroked down his throat.

" _F-Fuffin ffit!_ " he tried to shout, but his words were drowned out by the cloth strapped around his head and buried in his mouth.

Then he was tilted a little more, the backs of his shoulders resting against two Mortys' laps, and his legs were being lifted, spread, and bent at the knees until he was fully exposed to dozens of sets of hungry eyes. His own eyes widened when tickling caresses stroked down the backs of his thighs, lips following the trail downward.

The Mortys trying to lick and suck at his cock had to adjust to make room for Rick's lifted legs, but then they went right back to nibbling and lapping. One little shit even caught Rick's foreskin between his lips and tugged teasingly at it, staring him directly in the eyes as he did so.

Fucking hell, those little bastards were good. That couldn't have been their first rodeo with a Rick. At least the ones being more daring with his body anyway. There were still a large number of them that would gasp and cover their mouths, shy their eyes away only to look back more intrigued than ever, or huddle and giggle. Only a very small few, about five or six of them, hung back along one wall, adamantly averting their gazes and making disgusted faces at the floor or each other. A menagerie of expressions and reactions, all from the same boy, but all separate at the same time.

Rick was struck by it all, part of him like a distant observer to everything happening, another part hyper-focused on the action. His senses were becoming overwhelmed, sight swaying and having a hard time focusing on just one face when they all looked the same, hearing straining to hear every little whisper or soft gasp, all with the same voice. The touches to his body were everywhere and random and he continuously twitched or jerked, startled when one Morty or another found a sensitive spot. And the smell...the room smelled like sex and hormones and musk, and Rick couldn't help breathing in the heady scent and letting it swim through his head like a fucking drug.

He had been high on so many occasions on so many different substances, but whatever he was huffing right then was pure delicious arousal. And the best part was that it was au naturel. Coming down off that shit wouldn't leave him sweaty and trembling and puking from withdrawal.

Tongues licked his cock up and down, dragging the foreskin back and lapping under the silky folds. Lips enveloped the flushed exposed head and sucked teasingly, drawing out a bit of pre-cum and lapping it out of the slit. Hands groped his ass and spread the cheeks open, revealing his opening to breathy gasps and moans.

Then again...he probably **would** end up a heaving mess when everything was all over.

And then hot little wet tongues were upon his clenching entrance, and Rick tipped his shoulders into the Mortys' laps under him and dug his head between their bodies, moaning loud.

"Fuck yeah, Rick," a Morty groaned, latching harder to his left nipple and suckling.

"H-He likes it," another said in wonder scooting closer to see better.

"We-We'll make you feel so good, Rick."

"So sexy, Rick."

"I want him so bad!"

"M-Me too..."

"Think we should?" one asked, and the room hushed into stark silence, everyone freezing.

Rick swallowed, lifting his head and staring around the room at all the Mortys glancing about at each other, like they were reading each other's thoughts—at first uncertain, then sure, then determined. They all turned to him at once, leveling hungry eyes on him.

Rick gulped, unsure if he wanted to shrink away from their lustful gazes or leap into the fray. He settled for twitching nervously when suddenly wet fingers prodded his entrance and the rest of the boys focused back on their work of pleasuring his body. Those little fingers sunk inside rather easily, and the whole room groaned, including Rick. Almost every Morty not occupied by him reached down and cupped their groins, pressing and stroking over their jeans as they watched the proceedings.

One adventurous little bastard shooed the others teasing along his cock away, and he leaned over Rick's belly and took the entirety of his length into his mouth, sinking all the way to the base, burying his nose against the scientist's fleshy balls and tucking his head between his lifted legs.

Now, Rick had certainly been deep-throated before. And don't get him wrong, it was great every single time. But now he was seeing flashes of fireworks with how tight that kid's throat was, how skilled his tongue was as it still tried to lap at the base of him, how the teeth scraped just enough that it was a tortuous tease. Then the kid swallowed.

Rick curled up into that pleasure and **howled**.

The Mortys all moaned and touched themselves, a few even touching each other while they continued to watch Rick falling apart bit by bit.

More wet fingers invaded him, stretching him open. Hands pet along every square inch of exposed skin and lips and tongues covered what the hands didn't.

" _Ooofffuuukk!_ " he shouted when the Morty swallowed again then started rocking up and down, sliding Rick's thick cock through his throat. " _Moorry fffuk Moorrphy!_ " He huffed loudly and shuddered, chills of pleasure zipping up and down his spine. What was that kid's dimension?! Fuck it, he was gonna kidnap him right from that room if he got free.

More slippery fingers pushed inside, probably a whole hand at that point, Rick didn't know. Morty hands were pretty small, and he was pretty loose, so he wouldn't doubt it if one of them was fisting him at that point. It felt good anyway. Really good, in fact. Especially with the added bonus of his thick cock down a narrow throat.

The _zwwip_ _zwwip_ of dozens of zippers pulling open hardly registered to Rick's pleasure-addled brain. His lidded eyes lazily scanned the crowd of teenagers, watching them push open their pants and pull their hard cocks out. Many fisted their own selves and stroked to the sight of Rick being debauched by their duplicates. A couple others exchanged hand jobs while staring at Rick too. A few turned to each other and slotted their erections side by side, thrusting against each other and hugging around their waists to keep themselves pinned together.

Holy shit, it was the start of a fucking Morty orgy, with Rick as the centerpiece.

He chuckled wistfully, lidded eyes still drifting lazily around the room.

Rick liked orgies.

The fingers inside him dipped upward and stroked along the roof of his tunnel, and Rick groaned, rolling his eyes up again. Apparently, Mortys were also no strangers to prostate stimulation. Little fingers circled the sensitive area slowly, teasing him, and Rick couldn't help throbbing inside the throat of that adventurous deep-throating Morty. The kid pulled back at last, drawing all the way off, gasping and coughing. Saliva drooled from his wet lips and ran down his chin, his face red as a cherry. With his monopoly toppled, other Mortys moved in like vultures, bobbing along his length, sucking at the base, nibbling his balls, all lapping up the other Morty's sticky spit and replacing it with their own.

Rick squirmed, struggling his aching shoulders, wishing he was free. But being confined was also heightening his pleasure, awakening a bit of his submissive tendencies that he'd develop with the right partner. He liked to dominate, but he also liked to submit, depending on who was pushing him down or tying him up. That he was being subjugated by a pile of Mortys...well, it didn't sit completely right with him, but he also was caring less and less. All it really meant was that he wasn't going to fight them off.

Suddenly, the fingers, hand, whatever, inside him pulled free with a slick sucking noise, and he was being tilted up higher, his entire back curling and ass lifting into the air. Two Mortys stood behind his upturned rear end, holding his legs nearly bent until his knees touched his chest. The Mortys trying to lick at his cock had to pull away, moaning in protest. But the two holding him up smirked at each other and put on a good show to alleviate their brothers' frustrations. They both dipped their tongues into Rick's lightly gaped hole and lapped through it, French kissing each other and Rick's ass at the same time.

Everyone hooted and cheered and Rick's moan was lost in the ruckus.

One of the Mortys sucked at the rim of his hole and the other one lapped hotly along the edge of it, dipping down in and drawing back out, slathering spit everywhere and putting on a salacious show for everyone else.

Rick didn't even care that he was being used like a masturbatory toy now. Fuck that felt great. Surely, if he made it out of that room alive, everything happening would be his ultimate go-to for spanking material. Though if he could, he'd be grabbing a Morty to help him get off from now on. He was hooked. Another new junkie, needing his fix.

Around the room, one after the other, the Mortys began stripping. Most just took their pants off, but the ones closer to Rick, the ones most likely to get to touch him or wanted to touch him, disrobed completely. Piles of skinny jeans, shoes, socks, underwear, and yellow t-shirts formed and were kicked aside to keep the space clear.

Rick couldn't remember the last time he'd seen so much skin in one place besides the mosh pits in his younger Flesh Curtains days. Half the time, those devolved into orgies too.

"Let me...l-let me, please..." A timid Morty came forward, arms drawn into his nude chest, nervous and skittish, but still wanting to participate. "I-I always wanted to...b-but I was afraid m-my Rick would hate me..."

The two Mortys that had been eating him out smiled and parted, each drawing an arm around their copy and pulling him forward between them, situating him right between Rick's legs. They moved aside a little and continued to hold Rick's legs back, keeping him bent in half and tilted up, ass presented to the shy boy facing him.

The Morty gulped, his small Adam's apple bobbing deeply, as he stared down at Rick nervously. With the older scientist restrained and unable to fight back, and with the other Mortys already paving the way, it made it much easier to be as bold as he was now. "Oh, R-Rick..." he whined, shaking hands lighting to the backs of Rick's slender thighs. "I...I wanted to do this f-f-for so long, Rick..."

Rick stared up at him from between his own legs, blinking and swallowing, eyes suddenly nervous again, darting around the teen's own nervous expression.

The boy leaned down and kissed down one thigh, the muscles in it twitching under the feather-light pecks. His mouth made it to the seam in Rick's backside, spread wide with his legs pulled back the way they were.

" _Rick..._ " he breathed, staring down at the older man while his little pink tongue took a tentative lick at his opening.

Rick twitched and huffed a breath through his nose, swallowing.

The teen moaned with that reaction, and lifted a hand close, teasing two small fingers inside and adding his tongue to the mix, licking and tickling it against the rim. "Hooh Rick... I-I love you, Rick..." he whined, tears brimming his eyes, staring down at Rick's awestruck expression.

A chorus of 'aww's filled the room.

Several more Mortys came forward, then, as if inspired by the heartfelt confession of their duplicate.

"Me too."

"I-I love you too, Rick. B-But I was afraid to s-say."

"M-My R-Rick died," one sobbed brokenly, "a-and I ne-never got to s-say it to him!" A few nearby Mortys encased the weeping teen in their arms and shushed him understandingly.

Rick swallowed, eyes darting about the scene. What, was he now every Mortys' therapy Rick? Shit, he just wanted fucked, for crying out loud!

Then he was surrounded and buried in arms and hands and kisses, Morty whines and moans echoing in his head from everywhere, making the room spin once again.

"Love you, Rick!"

"We love you, Rick!"

"Rick, I love you so much!"

"I-I always wanted to be with you, Rick!"

"Was always afraid to say it to you, Rick!"

Rick's head was swimming, and he huffed against the strong hugs and insistent kisses. He was loved? By so many Mortys? Well, not him specifically, but did so many Mortys really feel that way about their Ricks? It called into question everything he previously knew about the Rick and Morty dynamic.

"Love you, Rick..."

"We love you..."

Oh, fuck, Rick's head was reeling with the heat of the teenager's bodies all over him, the smell of their aroused young skin, the feel of their softness, of their sweet little kisses, of their usually annoying voices raised in praise and worship of him. Not withdrawals, not at all.

"Love you..."

"W-We love you so much, Rick..."

"Please, be my Rick..."

"Love you, love you..."

Just...just a...a stupid ch-chemical...reaction...

Arms extended downward and hands traced his thighs, buttocks, stiff erection. Then fingers from so many different hands penetrated him, stretching him open wide, the feeling a sweet, aching itch that couldn't be scratched no matter how many digits buried themselves inside him.

It was as if they all wanted to be a part of him, and with their bodies so close and fingers delving into his flesh, they practically were. It was like some weird form of bonding ritual.

"Love you, Rick."

_Rick...Rick...Rick..._

"I love you, Rick...a hundred years..."

_Love...Rick...Love...Rick..._

"Love you forever and forever, Rick..."

"Rick and Morty...forever..."

And Rick broke.

" _M-Morrphheee..._ " he whined, tears brimming his eyes, his chest filling with a pressure and heat he couldn't explain with any amount of science or measure with any form of technology.

Soft coos of awe caressed his ears, and he leaned back into those arms, closing his eyes while soft lips kissed his tears away. He relinquished all control, let the Mortys bend and move him to their will, stuff him with fingers, lick at his skin, kiss at everything in reach, all the while professing over and over how much they cared for him, how much they adored him, how much they wanted to please him.

Rick had never felt so much utter devotion directed toward himself in all his long, sordid life.

"Grampa..." One little voice emerged from the constant thrum of utterances.

Everyone hushed and Rick opened his wet eyes weakly, tipping his head down to look between his legs.

It was that same Morty that first approached, the one that had been afraid to confess his love for his own Rick.

"Grampa..." he whined again, voice straining on that one word, stroking his hand along his own erection and staring down at him so needfully that it broke Rick one more time. "G-Grampa Rick..." He tilted his cock downward toward Rick's finger-stuffed entrance and bit his lip, staring into his widening eyes. "I...I wanna..." He swallowed heavily. "P-Please...let me..."

Rick's icy eyes drifted over the boy's pouting face, taking in how sweaty he was, that he was trembling with nerves, but still trying to attain what he'd always wanted. His gaze drifted around to the other Mortys around him, watching them turn to him one by one and look for his answer...for his approval. Wide icy grey eyes turned back to the kid between his legs and stared at him. He swallowed thick saliva that pooled in the back of his throat, panting through his nose for a steady breath afterward.

Rick's head of wily blue-grey hair gave one small nod.

Morty's eyes lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, and he bit his bottom lip hard, cheeks flushing bright pink. He wasted no time, nudging himself against the fingers in the way, and they all retreated at different paces, leaving Rick groaning and trembling in a pile of sweaty Morty arms that held him tightly.

"I love you so much, Grampa Rick," the Morty moaned, dipping down and sinking himself into Rick's loosened heat. "Ohhh fuck!" he cried, bracing his hands on the backs of Rick's thighs.

Rick groaned and huffed, little moans leaving his throat while the Morty gave his best effort at fucking him. It felt nice, but he was rather small for how stretched out Rick had become over the years, not just with the excessive fingering he'd gotten from the other Mortys in that room right then. That didn't mean he didn't feel full up with something else...something he couldn't explain...something he didn't want to think about right then.

Everyone let out hushed moans of approval at the sight of a Morty fucking a Rick, of finally going after what he'd been pining for for a long time. Many of them knew how the lucky boy felt, and they shushed the others that were cheering louder or laughing at the absurdity of the whole thing.

The room fell into a strange, reverent silence, broken only by the one Morty's huffing breaths and Rick's occasional grunt of pleasure. Even when Rick took a moment to swallow more saliva pooling in his mouth, the sound of it traveling down his throat could be heard.

Soft pats of the Morty's hips bumping against Rick's backside echoed in the room, and the boy tightened up, shuddering and leaning heavily on Rick's thighs, teeth grit. Tears poured down his cheeks when he forced his own eyes open to look down at Rick's wide-eyed stare.

"Hhoh...Rick..." he whined, his voice loud in the quiet room.

Rick swallowed heavily again, breathing hotly through his nose. What the fuck was happening? Why did it feel like he was suddenly some kind of weird sacrifice? A lamb to the cosmic slaughter, as it were. Was that how they were going to kill him? Upturned and taking it from a sad little Morty? Were they even going to kill him as ordered? Or was everything happening what they really wanted?—all the sex and touching and words of love and adoration. Or were they going to fuck the hell out of him and **then** kill him? But then their words of devotion, of sweet affection, their delicate touches and tender kisses...none of them conveyed the intention to kill. And Mortys were not very complicated creatures. They were bad at acting and worse at lying.

Rick blinked up at the boy between his legs and thrusting into him, realizing that the tears on his rounded face, the look of wanton desire clashing with an aching sorrow—it was all real. That Morty had been in love with his Rick but never found the courage to say it, and now he, Rick from dimension C-216, now bore the brunt of the boy's pent up affections.

Those kid's blue eyes were liquid and boring holes into his soul, but Rick couldn't tear away from them, never even considered looking away.

"R-Rick...ohh Rick..."

Tears dripped from his little cheeks and ran down along Rick's curled up stomach, pooling on his sternum.

Rick's eyebrow tented. He was never one to be empathetic toward others. Fuck people's useless, dead-weight feelings, he had better things to do than coddle someone's weak-ass sensibilities. But the way that Morty looked at him, eyes full of want and longing and ache...and that it was **because** he was a Morty... Something inside Rick's already busted up chest softened even further.

"Rick...please...please..." the Morty whined, tense, shaking, on edge already.

Teenage stamina was a joke.

But Rick wasn't laughing anymore.

His eyes softened at that poor boy, begging for an ounce of approval, a smidgen of understanding...of simple recognition of his long-hidden feelings. His head nodded once, trying to convey a smile around the stupid gag still in his mouth.

" _M-Morphy..._ " he acknowledged softly into the hush of the room.

The Morty curled over him and bawled, shaking through his sudden orgasm, spilling his seed inside his grandfather, and his tears down his stomach.

For once, Rick wished he could hold a Morty to his chest instead of just pat him on the shoulder or drag him around by the arm.

The teenager laid his face against the back of Rick's thigh and sobbed, spent and boneless against him. "I-I l-l-love you...oh, Rick...G-G-Grampa...G-Grampa Rick..."

Other Mortys finally moved back in again, gently taking the weak boy into their arms and pulling him away. They carted him over to a spot out of the way and laid him on a pile of discarded clothes, covering him with a couple yellow t-shirts.

Rick tried to follow them with his eyes and tilted his head, but the rest of the boys gathered in close, blocking his line of sight, and started stroking at his body again. Kisses danced along his thighs, tongues skated across his nipples and toes, fingers kneaded his lean muscles and fleshy backside.

"He had his fun, now its our turn," one Morty said, leveling a lusty look at Rick's face before leaning in and kissing along his nose.

Not all Mortys were the same, apparently, Rick noted, hoping the swimming of his vision wasn't noticeable to outside observers.

That sad Morty's pleasuring wasn't all that amazing, but with those hands and lips and tongues back on him all at once, he was starting to feel really good again. His back was starting to ache, though, with how long he'd been held curled up. His arms were sore and his hands were starting to go numb, but it wasn't like he could actually tell them that. Stupid fucking gag. He wished those dumb teens were a little more observant of his discomfort and take the damn thing off.

Someone started fingering him again, and they let out a noise of amazement.

"Y-You can see his cum inside him..."

Others cooed and groaned, moving in to get a good look.

Rick rolled his eyes, those good feelings from earlier drifting away a bit. Nothing like a gaggle of perverted teenagers to kill his good vibes.

"I-I wanna fuck him too," a Morty said, firmly, sure of himself.

"Me too!"

"I want it too!"

"Let me have a turn!"

Rick swallowed, suddenly nervous again. His icy grey eyes darted all about the Mortys surrounding him, ogling his nether regions. Oh, shit, they were gonna run train on him, weren't they? Not that they could do a lot of damage, but it was the principle of the thing.

And that was exactly what they did.

One after the other, with a Morty on either side of him, each holding one of his legs back, another Morty would slide between his asscheeks and push into his heat, throw anywhere from five to fifteen pumps in, then whine and climax. He would pull out only for another Morty to take his place and repeat the pattern over and over. There were even a couple that barely slid inside before they came shouting and huffing.

It wasn't too bad. It felt good enough. Their dicks weren't that big and his insides were now practically oozing cum—so much that it was smeared all over his ass and puddling on the floor under him—so there was plenty of lubrication to keep things from getting too sore too quickly. Besides, there was something about a Morty's 'oh face' that was really starting to get him worked up in all the worst ways.

One Morty giggled suddenly, calling attention to himself, and he puffed up with the others' eyes on him. "I h-have an idea..." He stepped a little closer when everyone waited for him to spill it. "P-Poor Grampa Rick doesn't look like he's having all that much fun, guys."

Everyone turned to look at Rick, and he rolled his eyes. He **could** be having more fun if they were all a little more skilled and lasted longer than thirty seconds. But what did he expect from a Morty?

"I-I used to go with my Rick to brothels and stuff on other planets. I know a-a lot of stuff he liked to do. Lets give this Rick as good as he's letting us have, r-right, guys?"

Everyone nodded and a chorus of agreements rumbled through the room.

"H-He's not just **any** Rick," one Morty near his head said firmly, catching everyone's attention again. He looked down at Rick who looked up at him with widened eyes and a tented brow. The Morty smiled warmly at him and leaned down, pecking between his eyes sweetly. "He's **our** Rick."

"Yeah."

"Yeah!"

"Our Rick!"

"Our Rick!"

They chanted it over and over, and Rick watched them all, grins on their faces, pumping their fists in the air and clapping as they stared at him...and those good feelings started coming back again.

The Morty with the ideas took charge and started pointing around and giving out orders that the other Mortys were eager to follow. Soon enough, there were two Mortys lying naked on the floor, groin to groin, their legs spread apart and overlapping each other so they could butt their balls together and hold their cocks to stand at attention, pressed against each other.

Rick knew where that was going immediately.

He wasn't necessarily against the idea either.

Sure enough, the Mortys tipped him up and maneuvered his hips and legs down and carefully lowered him onto the two teen's cocks, double penetrating him. The stretch was nice that time, and Rick sighed a long groan, at last feeling a bit of satisfaction from his extended death sentence.

Huh...he just realized that the president's voice had been oddly silent throughout the 'unusual events' in that room. He'd only protested at the very beginning, but after that, there had been nothing. No Rick guards were sent in to break things up or kill anyone. No hidden hangar bay doors opened up to blow them into space. Nothing.

It was like...things were being **allowed** to happen...

Loud groans and 'ooo's broke Rick of those brief thoughts and brought him back to reality. Mortys were gathered around his spread legs and staring at his penetrated ass seated rather comfortably in the nest of the two Mortys' laps, playing with themselves lewdly.

"A-All the cum is pouring out!" one groaned, fisting himself harder after saying it aloud.

And yes, Rick could feel the heat of warm liquid slowly oozing out around the two cocks buried inside him. Felt pretty kinky. Yeah, he liked it.

"Now you," the Morty with the ideas said, and pointed at another boy.

That one nodded and approached, stroking himself to stay hard, even though he probably didn't need to.

Rick widened his eyes. Wait a minute...

Mortys behind him held onto his shoulders and around his chest, securing him as they tipped his body backward a little again. It was an odd sort of cradling feeling, and he couldn't say he didn't like that either, but what made his eyes suddenly widen was the boy kneeling carefully near Rick's backside. The teen spread his legs wide to give himself and the others enough room to all occupy the same space and awkwardly leaned over Rick, bracing one hand to one of the Mortys' legs curled around behind the scientist. The teen moaned to himself as he used his free hand to stroke the leaking head of his cock against the stretched rim of Rick's hole, slicking it through the cum oozing out around the cocks already inside it.

Rick reminded himself to exhale and relax just before the kid pushed in, but he still stiffened and growled loudly.

Two Morty cocks were a pleasant stretch... **three** was pushing it into slightly uncomfortable territory. He hoped they wouldn't try to get any more stuffed in there, but knew there was no more room to do so anyway.

The room hissed with 'shh' sounds and hands stroked his face and fingers carded through his hair, shushing him and calming him. He must have been breathing too heavily or something.

"Easy, Rick."

"I-It's okay, Rick."

"Just relax, Rick, we got you."

Kisses peppered his temple, his forehead, his cheeks.

"We love you, Rick."

...Those good feelings again...

"W-Wanna make you feel so good, Rick."

The third Morty to penetrate him braced his hands beside the elder's hips and slotted his cock deep as he could then began to thrust slowly and steadily.

Oh, yes...please, yes...

Rick groaned throatily and rolled his eyes back, at last surrendering to a decent amount of pleasure.

"T-Tight...s-so tight..." the third Morty hissed, his hips stuttering already.

Aw come on, man. Didn't **any** of them have any staying power?

The teenager came gasping, then slowly pulled out a moment later, huffing, then moaning some more at seeing his own milky cream leaking free to pool around the other two Morty's cocks.

Rick whined, feeling pouty and needy, his petulance getting the better of him after what seemed like hours of Mortys fucking around with his body. He was becoming oversensitive and ached for a steady stream of pleasure that didn't stop after three pumps.

"Shh Rick..."

"Our sweet Rick..."

...Good feelings back...

"Shh-sh-sh..."

"I know what you need, Grampa Rick," a Morty's voice piped up and Rick opened weary eyes to look over.

The boy smiled coyly and stepped over his chest, straddling it with a foot on either side. He knelt down and cupped the older man's face, kissing the tip of his nose adoringly. " _I know what you need...Grampa..._ " he whispered throatily, lidded eyes staring directly into Rick's own. There was experience in that gaze—a 'knowing' that Rick had seen on many a lover's face. That expression on a Morty was so out of place that it enticed Rick to the point of a shiver running down his knobby spine. He wished he could lick his lips, they feeling dry from the cloth wrapped between them.

Rick settled for swallowing and watched the Morty scoot backward along his stomach, dragging his perky teenaged cock and balls along his warm ashen skin, leaving a thin trail of pre-cum along the way. The Morty reached back and took hold of Rick's spit slicked cock and lifted it toward his own entrance, shuffling back a little more to position himself better.

Oh, yes! Yes yes yes!

Rick's eyes widened when he felt tight heat envelop him, and he threw his head back into the Mortys' arms that supported him from behind.

" _Ohhh fuuuk yeeefff!_ " he cried through the gag, arching as best he could for being tied up, held in place, and impaled by a bunch of horny teens.

"Th-That's my Rick," the Morty on top of him moaned, his voice just as tight as his ass, but breathy and satisfied. "My s-sexy Grampa..."

Rick groaned even louder, trying to jerk his hips up into the boy on his lap, but hands clamped down on him hard to prevent him from moving much.

"We'll do it, Rick."

"Don't even trip."

"We—We got you."

"Our sexy Grampa..."

...More good feelings...

The Morty on top rocked his hips steadily, bottoming his own self out, and Rick keened, tilting his head back again and exposing his long throat and bobbing Adam's apple. He felt a third penetration in his ass again and squirmed in the boys' grip, huffing and tensing, then arching back once more and yowling in pleasure.

They all held onto him as best they could, keeping him still so they could all continue fucking him without pause.

"He really likes it!"

"Th-That's so hot!"

"M-Me next!"

"I can't believe this..."

"Oh geez...Grampa Rick is so sexy..."

The Morty on his lap sat up when another nudged him to do so, and the newcomer threw his leg over Rick's chest and straddled him too. The boy sitting on his chest put too much pressure on his arms pinned behind his back for the Mortys supporting his shoulders to alleviate, and he gave the kid a little frown and a grunt.

But then the Morty on his lap rolled his hips down all the way, and the third Morty penetrating him came hard, pulled out, and another one replaced him in seconds. And Rick didn't care how much his arms and shoulders ached—didn't care that his hands were mostly numb now—not a care in the fucking world as his eyes rolled up and he groaned loud and long through the gag now soaked through with his drool.

Soft touches alighted to his brow and stroked along it, and Rick opened his eyes blearily to see the little Morty sitting on his chest leaning close and smiling at him.

" _M-Morry..._ " he mumbled, eyebrow tenting and head tilting to the side, icy grey eyes with a distant, dreamy sort of look in their blue flecked depths as he stared up at the sweet boy and his sweet smile.

...So many nice feelings right then...

"Grampa Rick..." he said, his voice just as sugary as his smile. He stroked Rick's cheeks and brushed his thumbs under his eyes, wiping away some of the tears he hadn't realized were there. "Please, Grampa..." he begged softly, leaning as close as he could for his position. His fingers slid back along the cloth of the gag, rounding around his head slowly. "Please, Rick..."

The older scientist, scanned the kid's face with his eyes, unsure what he was begging for. Then the gag loosened around his head, and his eyes widened in realization.

About fucking time!

"Grampa Rick...please..." the Morty whined, drawing the cloth away from his face and pulling it free from Rick's mouth at long last.

Rick gasped loudly, his tongue sticking out of his mouth, having used it to help push the knot of fabric out. Slaver strung thickly between the cloth and his tongue and lips and pulled thin until it snapped when the Morty took the gag away and threw it aside. Rick groaned and worked his jaw, trying to alleviate the ache.

That Morty reached back in, taking his jaw into his small hands and working his fingers into the strained muscles below his ears, trying to help.

"Rick..." he moaned, leaning close, lidding his eyes, biting his lip. "Please...Grampa..."

Rick eyed him up and down, licking his lips—finally!—and humming softly in gratification.

" _Please..._ " the Morty tried one more time, whispering, leaning so close their noses brushed together.

Growling like a predator, Rick tilted his head up, capturing his prey's lips and devouring his mouth with deep motions of his jaw. He kissed the teenager breathless, swallowing his gasps and whines.

The Morty in his lap moaned, watching over his double's shoulder, and bounced on Rick's cock faster. The third Morty penetrating his overstuffed ass—also leaning to one side enough that he could see the intense lip-lock—came and pulled out still spurting, some of his spray landing up along the Morty's ass riding the scientist's lap. Another took his place right away, pushing in hard, and Rick hissed and bit into the boy's lower lip, making him yelp.

The Morty kissing him leaned away, holding a hand to his mouth and whining behind it.

Rick just grinned up at him and licked his lips, staring right into his eyes. The Morty moaned, losing himself in that intense glare, and reached a hand down to stroke his cock as it laid along Rick's sternum. He knelt up onto his knees, relieving a bit of pressure off Rick's bound arms, and played with himself while staring down into the icy eyes that held him captive.

"Rick... Please, Grampa..." he started begging again, leaning his leaking dick close to the older man's mouth. He drew a line along Rick's cheek, lightly brushing the heat of his cock head along the bruise decorating the ashen skin. " _Please, Rick..._ " he whispered, trembling as he dared to stroke his silken tip against Rick's bottom lip.

In answer, Rick groaned and opened his mouth, capturing the begging Morty's cock between his lips and sucking it in. It was an average Morty-sized erection, the tip of it brushing the back of his throat just right. He moaned around the silky texture wrapped over a swollen core and bobbed his head, giving the kid probably his first and best blowjob ever.

"Ohh fuck J-Jeezus!" the teen shouted, already a trembling mess.

Mortys were so easy to get off apparently.

Just as he thought that, a warm load poured out into his mouth, coating his tongue and sliding down the back of his throat. Rick hummed around the throbbing flesh between his lips and hollowed his cheeks, sucking the kid's orgasm out and undulating his tongue and jaw as he swallowed each pulse down.

Hmm...didn't taste **too** bad. He'd definitely had worse.

Hoots and gasps erupted around him and Rick flicked his eyes to either side, watching more of the duplicate boys either cheering or covering their mouths in astonishment.

Shit...he'd just sucked a version of his grandson off...

He sighed and let the kid pop free of his wet lips, licking them and staring up at his flushed face and dazed expression.

Well, fuck. He could hate himself later and drown in booze if he felt bad enough about it.

But honestly...the Morty bouncing on his cock, even still...the three teaming his ass...the rest of them surrounding him, all stroking off to the sight...

He couldn't be bothered to feel regrets right then...maybe even ever.

"Hoohh Rick," a Morty whined and appeared overhead, leaning in to kiss him deeply. "You're so amazing, Rick! I love you," he told him sincerely after breaking free briefly.

There were those good feelings again. What a coincidence.

"Love you..."

"I love you..."

"Rick, love you..."

"I love you, Grampa..."

Rick's chest swelled with that unnamed pressure, his heart pounding inside of it, cocooned in the heat and warmth of whatever that feeling was. The more those little shits praised him, cooed over him, spoke sweet, heartfelt endearments, the more that feeling grew, and the less Rick felt like fighting against it. It felt too good to deny, too sweet to brush aside, too fulfilling to spit out. He wanted to swallow everything those Mortys were feeding him—the pleasuring touches, the admiration, the affections—and beg for more.

"Fuck yes, babies... Come here... Come to Grampa... My little Mortys..." he whined, squirming in their embraces.

A horde of them moaned and poured closer, kissing at his face, his chest, everywhere, everywhere.

The train on his ass continued with fervor, and he ground down into the three of them, getting all to pop their loads.

"Rick, Rick!" the one left on his lap cried when he focused on him and slammed up into him hard and deep, putting forth just the right pressure and angling his strokes just so to make the kid blow his load all up Rick's stomach.

"Such good boys..." he growled, his voice raspy from disuse and sucking a cock.

All of them gasped and trembled from the praise.

He kissed a Morty that was close and licked all through his mouth before pulling away and turning to another one, sucking on his lip before swirling his tongue all through that kid's mouth too.

"Grampa's good little boys..." he moaned.

More Mortys groaned and stroked themselves harder.

Rick felt himself lifted and the two Mortys that had been the thick plug inside him for a while scooted out and two new ones took their places. Back in position, Rick was lowered onto their pulsing erections, stretching wide around them. A third Morty slipped in to join his brothers inside Rick's ass, and Rick groaned in appreciation, really starting to love that feeling.

A new Morty straddled his waist and gave him a lustful look as he backed down onto his cock and impaled himself deep on it, shuddering and moaning.

"Fuck yes! My sweet little Mortys..." He hunched his shoulders and huffed in pleasure, moaning when they pulled him back down and kissed all over him some more. "F-Fuck Grampa so good, babies..." he whined.

They all moaned in unison and Rick answered their call with a deep guttural groan of his own.

Lips and tongues mapped out his chest, a couple lapping up the one Morty's cum that had slathered over his stomach. One naughty boy even trailed in and sucked at the Morty's cock that was currently riding him. The kid arched and keened and came into his double's mouth, his insides clamping hard around Rick.

The old scientist growled, and the Mortys worked fast to replace the spent one on his cock with a wide-eyed newcomer.

"You gonna ride Grampa's cock, baby boy?" he asked throatily, and the Morty whined and nodded earnestly.

He looked rather inexperienced compared to the other two that rode him, but he also seemed eager to participate, judging by the flush to his cheeks that creeped down onto the upper part of his chest, and the lower lip he held between his teeth in anticipation.

The two Mortys that lead him over directed him to kneel down over Rick's chest, then slid their hands down the boy's back to his rear end. The Morty gasped and tensed, then moaned and stared down at Rick. He bucked back a bit into the four fingers helping to pry him open, two from each Morty on either side of him, and Rick groaned, watching those two Mortys prepare their brother to get fucked by a big cock.

The two held their fingers inside their double and nudged him to move, and the Morty wiggled down closer to Rick's shiny, throbbing erection. The third Morty on the train behind them paused in his thrusting and reached in to take hold of Rick's cock, tilting it to the finger stuffed hole of the Morty in front of him. The two Mortys holding the boy open slowly withdrew their digits, keeping him pried apart just enough so that when he tipped back, the head of Rick's cock easily slipped into the rosy tightness of his ass. As soon as that searing heat breeched him and the Mortys slid their fingers out at last, the teen shuddered and arched elegantly, throwing his head back, spine curving, and eyes rolling up behind fluttering lids, teeth biting his lower lip.

Rick thought it was one of the sexiest things he'd ever witnessed.

That Morty worked his hips slowly, rotating them in small motions as he took his dear sweet time to sit down on Rick's thick length. Multiple times, he huffed, halted, withdrew a little, then resumed his descent, until finally, after two more Mortys pounded one out inside Rick, the boy sat flush on his lap, his insides twitching around the scientist's turgid meat.

Rick's eyes rolled up and his head fell limp into the Mortys' embrace behind him again. That kid had to have been a virgin. **Fuck** he was so tight! Pleasure rolled over his body in warm waves, still feeling his ass getting fucked and kisses all over random areas of his skin, but the nicest sensations were definitely coming from that Morty on his lap now.

Rick peered down at him again and grumbled a self-indulgent groan. Eager eyes watched the boy brace his hands to the elder's stomach, shoulders hunched high near his ears. The kid squeezed his eyes and licked his lips, rolling his hips back and forth, trying to get used to the feeling of being filled.

"Uggnn there's a good boy, Morty..." he grumbled low in his throat, arousal making him sound guttural and hungry. "Does Grampa's cock feel good, baby? Does it fill up your little ass just right?"

The timidly explorative Morty gasped and opened his eyes, flushing even harder with those words. A whimpering whine left his throat, muffled by the lower lip held between his teeth again. "I-It..." his mousy voice eked out, "it f-fits so p-perfectly, Rick..." One of his small hands caressed over his own belly, low, down beneath his bellybutton and over the light brown fuzz on his pubic area. "L-Like it was m-made to fit inside me..."

A low growl grumbled up through Rick's throat, and it felt dry and raw afterward.

Those little fucks were turning him on more than **Unity**! And it could literally be and look like anyone it could assimilate! But those Mortys were all just...Mortys. They all looked the same, sounded the same, **were** the same...the same except for experiences, apparently. And those Mortys were also iterations of his own fucking grandson, Goddammit!

Rick shook his head a little, trying to toss those thoughts aside. He'd already determined he didn't give a fuck about that anymore. Those teenagers were cute, sexy even, and they were making him feel so fucking amazing, their familial bond was more of a kink now than a deterrent. They were getting him so riled up, his mind was sparking and going haywire. No memories existed or could be recalled where Rick was so pleasured for so long without experiencing orgasm, that he had to wonder if those brats were doing it all on purpose, or if they were just not good at getting someone off.

The feeling of another Morty shooting off inside him, drawing out, then another one pushing back in again had Rick leaning quite heavily toward 'they don't know what the fuck they're doing, but they're trying as hard as they can anyway'. Instead of feeling irritation with that thought, Rick only felt compassion mixed heavily with desire.

Stupid, adorable little shits.

Suddenly, he was lifted by the shoulders a bit and small hands worked on the bindings around his forearms and wrists.

Rick turned his head to the side, trying to look behind himself, but could only see skin and thin arms. "Ugh yes, good boys. That's it... U-Untie Grampa, babies..." he encouraged, breaths coming faster in elation.

Another Morty came and pulled out and a new third one replaced him immediately, thrusting in so hard, the pleasure was like a punch to the gut. "ARGH! Fuck yes! That's it! That's how you fuck Grampa, boys!"

So many moans surrounded him, it sounded like echoes reverberating back on each other.

His arms finally, **finally** slid free of the bindings, and the Mortys helped him pull them back around to his sides, kneading the weakened muscles to encourage blood flow and easing tension and pain. A couple started to pull his lab coat the rest of the way off, when a couple others shouted to stop them.

"N-No! Leave it on."

"He looks so sexy with it on."

"Fuck yeah, he does."

"Shit, I love that fuckin' coat on him."

Rick chuckled as he was laid back down to the floor, finally flat. It was such a relief. "Oh, you like the lab coat do you? Does me wearing it get you all nice and horny? Hm? Does it make all your little dicks wet?"

A chorus of 'mm-hmm's hummed pleasantly in his ears.

Rick had to chuckle again. "Yeah, you're a bunch of naughty boys, aren't you? Taking advantage of a poor old scientist, tied up and unable to move..."

Several Mortys swallowed nervously at the dark implication to those words, but Rick reached out a shaking hand that still didn't quite have the feeling back in it yet. His tingling fingers brushed a Morty's soft cheek, and he sighed, lidding his eyes.

"You did good, Mortys. You all did good." He smirked when they bit their lips and sniffled at the praise. "Now come give Grampa Rick some more sugar, babies. He's not done yet..."

Happy cries met his ears, and the Morty's cheek he held flushed hot. He drew the boy down and kissed him deeply, tonguing inside and swirling through his flavor.

He was fucked, and he fucked right back, bucking, grinding, arching, moaning. He kissed every Morty in reach, some just a quick peck before moving to another, and some he lingered long and slow.

Mortys kissed his hands and palms and sucked the blood back into his fingers. More Mortys resumed work on his feet and toes, lapping tickling tongues between them and sucking on the stubby digits. Even more Mortys went back to his chest and stomach, sucking his nipples, pinching them, biting at his skin.

His body practically vibrated with their hums of pleasure pressed into everywhere their mouths traveled, and he arched freely, tumbling toward the cusp of pleasure now.

He felt his hands being moved and held to touch at a small chest, one on each side of his body, and Rick peeked over the heads of several Mortys kissing at his face to see what the others were doing. A Morty on his left was pressing his hand down along his belly, heading for his straining erection, looking up at Rick and biting his lip nervously. Obviously, Rick got the hint and took more initiative, dragging his own hand down and curling his fingers around the boy's dripping length. The Mortys by his face blocked his view of the right side, so he blindly searched downward until his fingers traced another leaky cock and coiled around it as well.

"Ohh Rick!"

"Ohh Rick!"

The two cooed as one, and Rick felt smug as a fucking pumpkin. That was right. He was the best. He was fucking awesome. And he was worshipped by a giant harem of cute little Mortys.

Why was he in that room again?

Who the fuck cared.

Rick pumped the cocks in his hands, kissed the mouths hovering over his face, seesawed his hips between three Mortys in his ass and one on his lap.

Best. Day. Ever.

Silky sensations brushed along his knuckles, and it took Rick a moment to realize more cocks were trying to vie for his attention. He adjusted his hands, turning them to face his knuckles to the boys' groins and twined his long fingers around them both at the same time, pinky and index wrapping around the outsides and middle two fingers trapped between the lengths. He squeezed tight and began stroking four teenage boys off at once, their chorus of keens and whines like beautiful music.

"Sweet Mortys..." he groaned against one's lips, and they all moaned in response.

Best. Power trip. Ever.

"Rick...please suck me..." a Morty whined, tugging timidly at his lab coat bunched around his elbows.

"Suck me," another begged.

"Me too...please, Rick..."

"Suck us, Grampa Rick..."

Rick titled his head back and moaned, opening his mouth and lolling his tongue out. The first Morty to beg for a blow job took initiative and leaned over his face, straddling his head, and tilted his cock down into the elder's mouth. Rick pinched his lips over the tip and sucked it straight in, and that Morty came immediately. He swallowed the hot, sticky load and licked his lips when the boy withdrew, trembling and nearly collapsing back against everyone else. His brothers helped him off and another replaced him immediately.

"Ohh...ohh please..." he whined, dipping his length past Rick's parted lips. He looked ready to blow already. And he did, as soon as Rick's hot wet tongue traced down the main vein and dallied around the ridge of the head. He spewed along Rick's cheek, crying out. The spent teen was taken away and Mortys moved in to lick his cum away from Rick's face, and then another Morty knelt over him, begging to be sucked.

"So insatiable," Rick groaned, licking the new, yet identical cock as all the others.

Just how many Mortys **were** there in that room? He hadn't honestly been counting. Did they **all** want a piece of their grandfather?

Rick chuckled and bobbed his head along that Morty's cock until he too exploded with lurches and gasps.

Probably.

One Morty squealed and popped along his left wrist and another quickly followed, pouring liquid heat into his right palm. He worked his hands double-time and brought the other two over the edge as well, then released them and waited for four more dicks to take their places. It was only a matter of seconds.

He was a good Rick. A kind Rick. Benevolent, even. Giving a roomful of Mortys pleasure like that. Getting each one off and patiently waiting to give ones that hadn't gotten anything yet some attention. He never pictured himself as being kind or good, let alone 'benevolent'...but something about the events of that day, the way the Mortys revered him, touched him, trusted him...loved him...

They loved him.

An entire roomful of sweet little Mortys fucking **loved** him!

His chest had never felt so damn full of whatever that pressure was in there. Some weird pressure that built up and squeezed at his heart, at his throat, at the backs of his eyeballs.

They all wanted him. **Him**! Not just any Rick, but **him**! They called him 'our' Rick. They worshipped his body, keened when he praised them, and moaned wantonly when he gave them attention. Rick was wrapped around their fingers just as firmly as they were wrapped around his.

"My babies...my Mortys..." he rasped, panting, becoming desperate, needy for more.

"Our Rick!"

"Our Rick!"

They all chanted it at once, and Rick arched when a sudden jolt of pleasure blindsided him from just the call alone.

He quickly sucked off the one still in his mouth until the kid popped down his throat, then turned his head away, swallowing then gasping for a breath.

"A-All of you! All of you!" he cried, hips swirling down onto three cocks and up into one tight ass. His fingers squeezed and pumped along the four boys on either side of him, making them moan loudly and grip onto each other, kissing each other desperately in the high of pleasure that their Rick bestowed on them.

"All of you come! Come for Grampa, boys! Ohh fuck, yes, come for me, babies! My sweet little Mortys!"

Everyone left that still hadn't found their releases, crowded in around him and furiously fisted themselves, all of them groaning and shaking on wobbly legs at the sight of their Rick, debauched and falling to pieces before them.

One reached his climax first and sprayed a thick stream of semen across Rick's chest and the older man arched and growled and rolled his hips all over the Mortys inside him and bucked into the one riding him.

"Good boy! Such a good boy, Morty. Just like that, baby," Rick moaned, licking his lips and working himself into a frenzy. "That's how it's done. Now all of you! Come for your Rick! Come for me, babies!" He squeezed the four cocks in his fingers and they all throbbed and poured onto his palms and wrists, one after the other. "That's it, boys, yeah! Fuck yeah, do it!"

A chorus of high and low wines, moans, groans, gasps, filled Ricks ears and echoed through the room. Streams of semen sprayed across his heaving chest, his drawn up legs, down his clothed arms and against his cheeks and forehead and hair. The three Mortys inside him blew their loads simultaneously like some sort of choreographed dance that had been perfected over months of practice.

Everyone fell away, stumbling down to sit on the floor or lay in exhausted heaps.

But one was left, mewling and whining, bouncing on Rick's cock and trying so hard to please his grandfather. He hadn't come and he knew Rick hadn't either, and he was trying for all he was worth to get the older man off nice. But his scrawny legs were tired from lifting and falling, and he didn't really know how to please a partner.

"You too, baby," Rick ordered breathily, licking his lips and tasting his Mortys' distinct flavor.

"I'm t-trying Rick... I'm s-sorry..."

"I got you, baby," Rick moaned, reaching up to grab around the boy's thin waist. He sat up and rolled them over, **finally** off of his back, and laid the Morty out underneath himself. He hooked the tail of his lab coat around one arm and pulled it out of the way, then rolled and canted his hips down into the teen below him.

"Fuck yes," he growled, falling to his elbows over the Morty and devouring his mouth in a passionate kiss filled with desperation and need. "So good, Morty, you feel so good," he moaned and increased his pace, racing again toward completion.

Any longer and he'd get fucking blue balls.

The Morty squealed and squirmed under him, reaching over his shoulders and clawing desperately at his clothed back.

"You wanna come? Huh? You wanna come, Morty?" Rick taunted, pistoning his hips like a well-oiled machine.

"Uh-huh! Yes, Rick!"

With a wet sucking noise, Rick pulled out of him, leaving the teen gaped and trembling under him, gasping and whining.

"Roll over, baby. Hurry up," Rick ordered.

The Morty spun around and rose up to his hands and knees as fast as his shaky limbs would allow. He slotted up under Rick's long lean body, and the older man groaned and fit his cock back between soft ass cheeks. Plunging back inside, Rick didn't take his time. He fucked hard and fast, rocking the gasping Morty down onto his elbows. Rick's hands wound under the boy's upper arms and clamped down on his forearms, keeping him pinned tight to the floor while he slammed his ass hard. Quickly, he rotated his hips, changing angle, and pounded down into the Morty's sensitive prostate full force. The kid keened and squealed loudly, squirming and fighting against the pleasure, but Rick was unrelenting.

"You're gonna come on my cock, baby boy..." he growled, firming up his sweaty grip on the Morty's forearms, making sure he stayed pinned and unable to reach down to pleasure himself. "Gonna come all over my cock and squeeze it so nice, Morty... You're gonna milk me, baby. You wanna milk your Rick off, hm? Want your ass to swallow all your Rick's tasty cum, Morty?"

"Oh, God, yes!" the Morty cried loudly, his strained voice echoing in the room filled with sated teenagers, lounging and watching the amazing season finale of the best show they'd ever seen.

Better than inter-dimensional cable.

Even better than Ball Fondlers.

"Fuck me, Rick! F-Fuck me so good!" the Morty squealed, tipping closer, closer, closer to the edge of the fucking universe.

"That's it, baby, tight...fuck me, so tight..." Rick growled, clenching his teeth, looming further down over the smaller teenager under him.

One more well-placed thrust, and the Morty screamed so loud it made everyone's ears ring. His ass clamped down hard on Rick's thick length, sucking it deep inside and pinning it there while it undulated and spasmed through the boy's powerful orgasm.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it, baby! Milk G-Grampa dry, Morty! Augggh!" he yelled, stiffening at long fucking last, lurching over and pressing his forehead to the back of the Morty's head. They both jerked together, gasping, growling, sweating. Rick's balls drew up, and his cock swelled and throbbed so hard, it ached and made his eyes water. He felt his own liquid heat pour out and surround his palpitating length, quickly filling up the tight channel cradling it. The Morty under him cooed long and low, shuddering while his small hands kneaded uselessly against the smooth metal floor.

The heat of their excursions poured off of them and they finally slumped to the floor, Rick unwittingly slipping free, his spent cock hot and still twitching, hanging down and pressed firmly between the boy's ass cheeks. His thick cum dribbled out of the Morty's fucked open hole, making a sizable puddle beneath them.

"So good..." Rick moaned breathlessly, panting hard and rolling his head back and forth along the back of the Morty's sweat-dampened hair. "So fuckin' good, Morty. Holy shit, dawg..."

"I...l-love you, Rick..." the Morty under him moaned quietly, tears in his voice.

"Oh, baby..." Rick cooed and leaned up, rolling the kid over from his tightly tucked position and stroking his soft, rounded face. "So sweet, Morty..." He brushed at the boy's shining tears and smiled down at him with genuine affection.

"Rick..." a voice to his right sounded, and he looked over. A few Mortys were crawling toward him, their eyes also glossy.

"I love you too, Rick."

"Me too..."

"I love Rick too."

Mortys converged on him from the left as well, all mumbling their love, their devotion. All for him. All for Rick.

"Oh, fuck..." Rick whined, reaching up and and rubbing his palms over his eyes. They were stinging and watering for some reason. His own name was echoed into his head from the mouths of so many, all focused just on him.

_Rick...Rick...Rick...Rick..._

"Love you, Rick..."

"I love you, Grampa Rick."

_Love...love...love..._

"Aug-huhh!" Rick cried, fisting his wild hair in his fingers, leaning back on his knees and facing the ceiling. He threw his arms wide and warm bodies piled around him. His fingers found soft, sweaty brown hair, pulling everyone in the span of his arms inward, crushing them against himself. His lips peppered kisses all over foreheads and hair and mouths and cheeks. His tears dripped onto his devoted little helpers. Those not in the the circle of his embrace couched in around him, kissing at the tears on his cheeks, stroking through his wiry hair, hanging off his shoulders and arms, hugging around his back and hips.

"Love you, Rick."

"We love you."

"—so much—"

"—so so much, Grampa Rick—"

"I love you."

"Sweet Mortys... My precious Mortys!" he sobbed loudly, kissing more of them.

With the the hazy cloud of arousal finally blown away from the heated pressure in his chest, Rick couldn't believe how he had never known how much he cared about those beautiful little Mortys...his own Morty...any Morty. They were so perfect, so devoted, a little goofy, somewhat incompetent, kind of annoying, but overall, the best companions he could ever ask for.

He **loved** them.

He loved **all** of them.

"I love you too, babies... Grampa Rick loves you so much, Morty... You, and you," he kissed one then another, "all of you. All my Mortys. I love all of you!" He hugged as many as he could as tightly as he could, cupping their heads to him. He sobbed hard, his whole body shaking in their warm embraces.

He was too sober for that moment—that whirlwind of stark emotion that he always used to tamp down before. But now it was out and roaring in his blood, and he couldn't go back to the cold indifference he held before. Never again, not with all those big round eyes staring up at him, watery and full of undivided devotion...all for him...just for him.

Rick teetered and felt lightheaded, his hands and feet tingling and loosing feeling like they were tied up again.

"Fuck...sh-shit..." he moaned weakly, leaning forward over his group of Mortys and using them to support some of his weight. One of his shaky hands found his face, wiping through the tears there and cupping over one eye wearily.

"Oh no!"

"R-Rick, what's wrong?!"

"Hold him up!"

"We're here, Rick!"

"Wh-What happened?!"

"It...it's okay, boys..." Rick mumbled. Closing his eyes against the spinning. "I just...you—you guys wore me the fuck out...a-and I've been sober way too long... Fuck...too...too old for this...shit..."

"Help him!"

"Lay him down."

"Move! Out of the way!"

Dozens of hands cradled him and slowly eased him back, gently laying him against the floor. Mortys rushed around gathering a few articles of clothing and bringing them back to tuck under Rick's head for support.

"Such g-good boys..." he praised even as the room spun and his face felt hot and tingly.

"He needs a drink," one Morty said firmly.

"We—We don't have anything," another answered.

"He's got withdrawals."

"He might get sick."

"Should we put him in the recovery position?"

The hissing sound of the bulkhead door opening erupted from one side of the room, and all the Mortys froze and spun their attention to it like a pack of prairie dogs. Two guard Ricks sauntered in, guns held at the ready across their chests. They stalked forward and came to a stop near the pile of tensing Mortys, glaring down at them through narrow, cold eyes.

"Move it," one ordered, focusing his eyes on the weakened Rick on the floor in the center of them all. "Get away from him."

Resounding 'no!'s clapped back at the guards, and their eyes widened at the scene. The Mortys threw themselves over Rick's body, hiding him from view, and more stood up to block the way, lifting their arms out.

"Leave him alone!"

"Don-Don't hurt him!"

"Go away!"

"He's ours!"

"Y-Y-You can't have him!"

The guards looked at each other, exchanging a wordless moment of surprise, then focused back on the crowd of mostly naked Mortys.

The same guard that spoke before sighed and waved his hand from side to side at the group, like trying to swipe them away. "We're not gonna hurt the bastard. We just need to address him. Now back the fuck off so we can get done here. Your naked asses are irritating to look at."

"Put—Put some fuckin' clothes on, you sick little shits," the other guard grumbled, averting his eyes and scowling.

The Mortys recoiled a bit, looking scolded and sheepish. They bit their lips and looked at each other, unsure if they should trust the guards or not.

"I-It's okay...Mortys..." Rick mumbled from under the protective pile. "Y-You're squishing me any-anyway."

Nervously, the Mortys on top of him slid off and knelt or stood nearby, they stared between all the Ricks in the room—theirs on the floor and the two guards.

"What-a-ya assholes want?" Rick growled, reaching up to cup his forehead and squinting against the light. "I got a stress headache comin' on, and you two aren't helping."

"The president sent us," the first guard said, scowling down at him in disgust.

Oh...right...his death sentence.

Shit.

"C-Come to finish the job?" he asked, not bothering to look at them.

The Mortys around him whimpered and whined, leaning back in for him. He held a hand out, however, staving them off. When they started sniffling and held back, he dropped his hand to the floor limply, the appendage mostly numb and tingly.

"Actually..." the guard grumbled, sounding irritated, "the President has granted you a full pardon. You—You're free to go."

"All of you, get outta here. We gotta get some janitorial Ricks in here to clean this shit up. You brats are disgusting," the second guard snarled, whirling in place and storming out of the room.

Rick chuckled weakly and the Mortys around him sighed with relief and touched at him, small warm hands providing gentle comfort for his thumping brain. "Wh-What changed his mind?"

The guard Rick scowled, staring down at him. His black gloved hand picked absently at the weapon held against his chest. "I guess he was...moved...by your performance," he grumbled.

"Oh?" Rick chuckled some more. "Was he impressed that I could fuck an entire room of Mortys?"

A lot of the boys blushed and turned their eyes down bashfully.

The guard clenched his jaw, the muscles visibly jumping along his cheeks. "Whatever, Two Sixteen. I don't know the President's motives; I just follow orders. Now get the fuck out of here. And take all these stupid Mortys with you. They're no longer needed." He turned on his heel with a snap and stalked out of the room, his military lab coat billowing out behind him.

Rick puffed out a deep sigh and sagged where he lay, reaching a shaking hand to wipe at his brow. "Huh...so I guess...you guys really **are** mine now..." he mumbled absently. "Unless...you all have Ricks to get back to."

A Morty leaned close and brushed his hand over Rick's brow for him, wiping up the sweat from the heated skin. "We don't have Ricks anymore. We're all from Mortytown. Just a-a bunch of Rick-less Mortys that needed some money to get by."

"The president sent a couple guard Ricks to Mortytown to offer us cash for a job," another Morty supplied.

"They told us it was simple, and we'd like it," a third chipped in.

"It was a lot of money, so I agreed."

"Me too."

"Yeah."

"So did I."

Another Morty continued, "But when we got here, w-we were put into this room and told to kill the Rick they put in here...but..." He cast his eyes downward.

"We couldn't..." a Morty's voice from the back sounded.

"Just couldn't do it..." said another.

"We didn't wanna kill anyone...let alone a Rick."

"I-I always loved my Rick."

"Me too."

"Same here."

A timid Morty scooted close and laced his fingers between Rick's, picking his hand up and cradling it against his small chest. "Will you really be our new Rick?"

"Please?"

"Will you?"

"We love you, Rick!"

Rick's heart swelled and his head pounded with every beat of it. He really needed a drink. "Fuck...I'm gonna have a lot of explaining to do to my Morty back home," he mumbled offhand. "Not to mention my Beth and Summer." He sighed and squeezed at the hand holding his, running his thumb along the softness of it. "Oh, well... A-Anyone that wants to stay with me, stay. Anyone that doesn't can get going. N-No hard feelings."

Resounding cheers bounced off the walls and ceiling of the barren room, and Rick winced and held a hand to his head in pain. Over exerting himself during a withdrawal was really the worst. Even still, his ego knew no bounds. He totally had the bragging rights to say he'd fucked an entire room full of Mortys. He was so fucking good. He smiled. Lucky too. He'd gotten a huge harem out of the deal!

The Mortys shushed each other and bustled about, getting dressed and talking excitedly amongst themselves. A group of them did break away and waved goodbye, walking out the door and heading back to Mortytown. Their lives there weren't so bad there, and they felt better staying on the Citadel rather than being uprooted once again, despite the great time they'd had. The rest of them, just over half of the original group—probably about twenty-five or so—stayed, doting over their new Rick. He asked for his portal gun and confiscated tools, and several Mortys ran off to find where they were taken and retrieve them so they could all go to their new home.

As Rick laid in wait for their return, a couple Mortys helped to redress him, then he sighed and relaxed as best he could for having a dizzying headache and a slightly upset stomach. Such a buzzkill for his euphoric afterglow of the best sex he'd had in he couldn't remember when.

Rick chuckled softly to himself as his Mortys pet his hair and stroked his arms and lapels, admiring the white lab coat that he always wore, messy as it had now become. A few kisses landed on his sweaty forehead, and the pain dulled just a little each time.

He'd survived yet another death sentence.

Even still...if he **had** been killed by all those Mortys...killed by them **fucking** him to death...

Rick Sanchez chuckled deeply to himself, mumbling absently, "What a way to go..."


End file.
